Here With Me
by Pamf
Summary: Their journey isn't easy. Sometimes it isn't safe, the heart-wrenching moments Sonic and Amy experience of abuse by the Orphanage they were placed in is proof of that. Even with their childhood stolen, what's important is that they are here for each other to face it all. Even so, time is ticking and Sonic is coming of age to leave with him planning to go far. -RATED M FOR VIOLENCE-


**Yuanfen: **_A relationship by fate or destiny; the binding force between two people._

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><p><strong>x.X.x<strong>

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><p>"Sonic! Get your ass down here, you stupid little bitch! What the fuck did I tell you about not living like a pig?" Geoffrey screams.<p>

Panic-stricken at the thought of what would happen next, Sonic rushes his younger foster companion, Amy, over to the bedroom closet and pushes the tiny child inside. Before shutting the door he says, "Don't move or make any noise." Then in a softer whisper he warns the younger girl, "You have to be really, really quiet. I'll be right back. I promise."

That was code for "be invisible." Amy obeys her older friend, tears of fright silently dribbling down her cheeks.

Sonic rushes into the hallway and stops to look at his foster mother, who is standing just inside her own bedroom. "What the hell did you do now?" she accuses. "How many times do I have to tell you to do what you're told? You worthless brat!"

Amy listens from the closet to the rapid patter of eight-year-old Sonic's feet as he runs down the stairs. There's an eerie silence during which she unconsciously holds her breath. Then the first blow strikes. Followed by others. Amy cringes at her older friend's muffled shrieks of torment as she imagines the scene downstairs with telling accuracy. Sonic, she knew from past experience, had once again been transformed into their foster father's punching bag. She wonders why their foster mother doesn't go and help Sonic. Resisting the urge to run downstairs, Amy stays hidden upstairs in the bedroom closet as she was instructed, waiting for the beating to end, scared that her foster father will come for her after he was finished with her older companion.

Down in the kitchen, Geoffrey St. John lurches around, unsteady on his feet. He towers over his young foster child, contemplating his stricken face for several minutes and deriving a sickening enthusiasm and fresh energy from his growing terror. Sonic stands before him, whimpering from the fear that was planted in his heart, wishing, as always, that his foster father's pity for him would overpower his fury. That never happened. When he had worked himself up into a frenzy of fear, Geoffrey punched him in the eye. Sonic lost his footing and hurtled back into the doorframe. Almost immediately, his face began to swell at the site of impact.

Snatching him up by the collar of his shirt, Geoffrey slaps Sonic across the face with such force that he split Sonic's lip open. Blood gushing into his mouth and down his chin, Sonic watches as his foster father walks over to the stove and turns on the burner. When the cold black coil began to glow a scorching orange, he shut the burner off and stood glaring at his foster child. Sonic's body involuntarily shook as he wonders what he was going to do to him. Huddled in the corner of the kitchen, Sonic wished the walls would open so that he could crawl inside of them and find the needed protection from his foster father's wrath. "Please, sir. Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry," the child begged.

His eyes bored into Sonic's, undeterred by his fear and pain. Sonic watched in terror as the corners of his foster father's mouth curled up, until he was smiling like a sadistic monster. Sonic trembles visibly in anticipation of what was to come. His foster father suddenly pounces on him. Grasping him by the arm, he drags him, kicking and screaming, over to the hot burner. Then he seizes Sonic's left hand and orders him to unclench his tiny fist. After he opened his hand, Geoffrey slaps his palm down on the hot burner in one swift movement, holding it in place for a couple of seconds and letting the young, tender skin boil and blister from the intense heat that still remained. Then he bent down, his face close to his foster child's, and snorts, "Oink! Oink! Oink!" into his ear.

All through the ordeal, Sonic's shrills of agony sliced through the silence of the house. Hershey lay on her bed upstairs. Her mind filled with raw horror as she imagined what would happen to her if Geoffrey killed the child and was sent to prison. She prayed that he wouldn't take it too far this time. She didn't give a thought to the suffering that her older foster child was enduring at the hands of her husband. It was as if she had ice water running through her veins in place of blood.

As Sonic collapsed on the floor, Geoffrey stood over him threateningly. Speaking in a tight, cold voice, he said through clenched teeth, "You are a worthless piece of shit. I don't know why I just don't kill you right now. I'm giving you another chance to act like a human being. You can forget about eating dinner tonight. I don't see why a little pig like you should be fed. Consider yourself lucky that I don't beat you to death." He began to leave the kitchen, but turns back at the doorway and bellows, "You better have this place cleaned up before I get home from the bar!" With that final warning, Geoffrey grabs a beer from the refrigerator then storms out of the kitchen and left the house.

Sonic remained sprawled on the floor, paratolyzed by the depth of his own despair, his eight-year-old mind trying to recover from what his foster father had just done to him. Then he scolded himself for failing to wash that one dirty fork that Hershey had left in the sink when she had gotten home from work. Maybe if he had washed it, none of this would have happened, he tried to rationalize, looking for some reason why he deserved such harsh punishment. He sat staring at his blistered, deformed palm. The pain the burn caused was only secondary to his overwhelming despair at being unloved.

Barefoot and dressed only in her white nightie, Amy treads softly down the stairs, the marble floor cold under her feet, following the sound of the heavy breathing and soft crying.

Finding Sonic looking ruined, she sees him cover his face with his hands. His body shakes.

Even hidden away in the dark, he doesn't want anyone to see his tears.

He's trying to be strong.

Her heart aches.

Slowly walking closer, her footsteps sounds, and his face snaps up to look at her.

Jumping up like a jack in the box, he snaps in a whispers, "I told you to stay put."

Not coming any closer, Amy put down her supplies of an aid kit she found in the bathroom and whispers, "You're hurt."

Sonic watches her carefully, looking between the things she's brought and her face, as if searching for some hint of this being a joke.

He scowls and says quietly, "I'm always hurt."

Even in the dark, she can see the hatred in his eyes. It shines bright as day.

She can see his cheek become darker. Stepping forward with wide eyes, she tells him, "You're bleeding."

Reaching up to his cheek, he touches the wound with his fingertips, pulls it away, then looks at his blood. He rubs it between his thumb and middle finger slowly. Caressing the blood, as if in apology.

Amy stutters, "I- I can help you."

Lifting his cold eyes to her, he spits, "Go back upstairs before Geoffrey come back."

He can't boss her around.

Placing a hand on her hip, Amy glares at him and whisper-hiss, "I could get into a lot of trouble. Geoffrey would be real mad. And…and I came to help you." Suddenly scared for herself, she says hushed, "Please, let me help you."

His posture relaxes a little, and he asks, "Why would you help me then?"

She shrugs. "You're hurt."

"No one else cares if I'm hurt."

Amy whispers, "I do."

They stand there, staring at each other a long time.

Lifting his head, he runs a hand through his messy brown quills to keep it out of his face. He watches her for a second more before he utters, "Alright."

Relief and joy swirl through her body.

He steps forward into the moonlight coming from the window and she gasps. The top of his cheek is gaping and his face is bruising.

She swallows hard, trying not to be sick.

Taking some cotton and antiseptic, she warns, "This smelly stuff stings."

But when she dabs it on his wound, he doesn't even flinch. His eyes never leave hers.

Taking a band-aid, Amy opens it and places it on the top of his cheekbone. It doesn't do much. The wound is too big. But he still mutters, "Thanks."

"You're welcome. I'll always help a friend."

Sonic blinks. "I'm your friend?"

Amy smiles, nodding bashfully. "If you want to be."

"Sure, we're all we got." Sonic says with a wink. "I'll always be here for you."

To him, the gesture is probably small and insignificant. But Amy smiles and nods in agreement, and her stomach flutters a little with excitement, as they pinky swear at his promise.

_Here with me._

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><p><strong>x.X.x<strong>

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><p><strong>Oooii -v-<strong>


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